Eldest: The Dwarven Rider
by Penman Specialist
Summary: When Lord Aramis of Surda wrenches the second egg away, what will happen? A Dwarven rider comes to pass, Eragon’s saga continues, and you see a little into Galbatorix .
1. The Wrath of Galbatorix

**Eldest: The Dwarven Rider**

**The Wrath of Galbatorix**

I am Lord Aramis of Surda. My fault it is said, for the eldest lord of Surda to lose Galbatorix's second egg. But what is fault? A Rider has none. For yes, I am a Rider, and no accident was this...

Galbatorix strode through the halls, gleaming with pleasure, for this was Dragon Day. He could feel that today a Rider would emerge. The Kull would kill Eragon; he would have a Rider to take the throne. Ha! The Varden were really helpless now.

Then, a rider galloped hard up to the castle, bearing a scroll and a banner heralding Galbatorix. "Sir, the Urgal report a mass killing." Good, good, today was a good day.

"But Durza was lost, they have been driven back, and Eragon lives."

"Argh! You imbecile!" Galbatorix raged.

"But sir..."

"Jierda con welden!" The man's neck s silenced, shattered like fine china, and recomposed himself as a mindless guard. Thus was Galbatorix's power.

Meanwhile, the people passed over the dragon under the dark tower, with his guards ever watching, the people cowering under the darkness. Men of Terim, Gil'ead, passed under. Even the Raz'zac that remained took a shot.

Yet the eggs never cracked, their reddish ruby and gold plated color gleaming in the little light that ever passed into Urû'baen. Lord Aramis, as an ambassador to Empire, had to do it for show. And the red one fell. As if by magic it glowed, and vanished.

Galbatorix was enraged. Suspecting the Surdian Lord, he threw 5 short axes, and Lord Aramis died. His blood poured out on the ceremonial altar. For him, he had completed the task. Transported it where none knew. With his last act as Rider, he did a good one. Fulfilled, it was.


	2. Off to Du Weldenvarden

I'm sorry if this was confusing, I'll try to make it clearer (and longer!) as I go.

**Off to Du Weldenvarden**

An egg, a new red one, appeared in a hawk's nest in the Tronjehim Valley nearing the other Dwarven cities. Eragon never noticed it, as he flew high with Saphira, over the clouds almost, but not really. They knew what happened then. Eragon clung to Saphira. _Stop._ He spoke to Saphira. _Arya says that we near the Kull's camp._

_So? And as if we can't take them. We've got Arya, and I can breathe Fire. _Came Saphira's bold reply. She seemed happy with that fact. And that was the problem. They couldn't take them all. Eragon was just out of rest, Saphira was a little too confident from breathing fire. Arya was the only one with near-full heath.

**_Come. _**Eragon had heard it for the past month. It was The Cripple That Is Whole, who appeared to him after the battle in which he had killed Durza. It wasn't easy to "come" when Orik was fighting with the dwarves in other cities, and the Twins were always double checking if he was healthy and the coast was clear.

Orik and Hrothgar needed to maintain trust in Eragon in the kingdom. Even King Hrothgar was wary of not Eragon, but his dragon, Saphira. The dwarves had never had a Rider, and they had always hated dragons for unending time. When humans and elves were not yet there in Algaesia, they had fought years on end, and the dwarves viewed dragons themselves savage.

As he relayed the message hesitantly to Arya, she replied in the old tongue. "What is is. We can not get through, even with..." And there she made a sign of magic and scary images of fire and sword that Eragon and Saphira would never forget. Shades, forest fires that destroyed whole villages, blue flame surrounding magnificent palaces. So they readily complied, and Saphira swooped down into a ledge to make camp.

Eragon and Arya had continued Eragon's ritual of swords fighting after camp, and tonight he had an elf to contend with. As Brom once said, even the weakest elf can defeat a Rider. But this time, Eragon, started to gain an edge. He could see a tiny ounce of surprise when they fought, as if his power was growing, like Saphira.

Afterwards, Saphira cooked a hawk bird for each of the two. Then she flew off, to catch a few raw trout and deer. Eragon then began "So, is it possible to go around the Kull's camp?"

"Yes" she admitted. "But on Saphira even it'd take 2 days, with winter approaching. We need to get to my people in three. How about over?"

"No, Saphira and I tried it, and almost died." Thankfully she wasn't lying. Although they were companions on this journey, and trusted each other, they still spoke in old language to make sure no one could trick the other.

"Then it's around the mountains, into the freezing Hadarac Desert, and over the flame of the Shade." That was her worried response.

"I do not know about the flame." The old language did that to speech, and Eragon disliked it at times.

"The Shade, when he ambushed me, he set fire to both the southeast branch of the forest, and my village. The village fire was small, but my people still battle the whole southeast wing. We think we have 33 casualties, not counting the villages there."

With that Saphira came back, a bit of red blood on her left cheek. She huddled around Eragon, and he fell asleep, thinking of the two other eggs, and the long journey ahead.


End file.
